


Your Taste

by redeyedwrath



Series: Sterek Tumblr Ficlets [22]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Online Dating, First Meetings, Fluff, French and Chinese translation available!, Internet Friends, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 21:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8683888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redeyedwrath/pseuds/redeyedwrath
Summary: In which, Derek is Stiles' online boyfriend - even though Stiles doesn't know what he looks like - and they meet for the first time





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emela/gifts).
  * Translation into Français available: [Your Taste](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12469756) by [TheHigherGround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHigherGround/pseuds/TheHigherGround)



> I am blaming this on [pale-silver-comb](http://pale-silver-comb.tumblr.com) and her followers (but mostly Emma) because GODDAMMIT I HAVE SUCH A HUGE WEAKNESS FOR DORK!DEREK *cries*
> 
> Anyway, this is based on [this post](http://pale-silver-comb.tumblr.com/post/153646233942/au-where-derek-and-stiles-are-pen-pals-or). I hope y’all like it ^^
> 
> [Available in 中文](http://877658384.lofter.com/post/1d3bdacb_12870745)

Stiles is pretty sure he’s dying. Wait, no, amend that statement: Stiles is pretty sure he’s already dead. One hundred percent, completely, irrevocably dead, because he’s going to be meeting Derek in - he glances at his phone - _twenty_ minutes. Twenty freaking minutes. After a literal year and a half of talking - of which only forty percent was flirting, surprisingly - they’re finally meeting.

And Stiles? Stiles is _dead_.

His fingernails and cuticles too. He’s bitten them more in the past few hours than he has in months now, but that’s how nervous the thought of meeting Derek makes him. He’s excited too, of course, because who wouldn’t be after meeting up with their online boyfriend of seven weeks. The worst - but also the best - part about this is that Stiles doesn’t even know what Derek looks like.

He’s pretty sure Derek isn’t insecure or anything, but, well, you can never be too sure on the internet. They’ve Skyped - Stiles with his camera on, Derek with his off - and everything went fine, but Derek refused to send him a picture. Though, Stiles thinks it’ll be okay if Derek looks even remotely like how his voice sounds: Soft and gentle and something Stiles would imagine to be a fluffy blanket, if it were a physical thing.

Whatever, he’s sure it’ll be fine. At least Derek knows what he looks like, so there’s no chance they’ll miss each other, unless… unless Derek doesn’t show up. But, Stiles isn’t going to think about that, because he’s going to need the remaining parts of his fingers for all sorts of important things. Like holding Derek’s hand, for example.

God, he can’t even _believe_ he’s going to be holding Derek’s hand in less than thirty minutes. If Derek will let him, of course, Stiles is a big advocate for consent because that shit’s important, but he’s pretty sure Derek will. Or, well, that’s what he gathers from Derek’s soft, whispered ‘ _I love you_ ’s whenever they Skype.

Yeah, no, Derek will definitely let him hold his hand. Maybe he’ll even let Stiles buy him coffee, like a proper date should. He wonders if Derek’s hands are anything like his. Derek’s given him a few details, of course - green-ish, blue-ish eyes and dark hair - but nothing too specific, so Stiles is going in blind. In his mind’s eye, Derek looks kind of like him, but not too much: just a bit scrawny and lean.

He could be totally wrong, but that’s just the image he has whenever he talks to Derek. It fits with the voice too, and it’s overall very appealing. At least, if you ask Stiles and his right hand. His right hand which might be holding Derek’s soon _oh my god_.

Jesus Christ, he’s pretty much thinking in circles right now. He should find something to do before he drives himself insane and he’ll end up as an unattractive, drooling puddle of nothing, face-down on the table, and if there’s anything Stiles wants to do, it’s make a good first impression.

He pulls up his phone and thumbs over to the ‘Games’ folder, hesitating between his Gameboy emulator and the binary puzzles app - mostly because he’s an indecisive piece of shit and he’s addicted to both. Derek was the one who introduced him to binary puzzles, actually. He’s always been into Sudoku’s, but binary puzzles were a lot more challenging, so he switched to those. Derek preferring them might have factored in a bit, but that’s inconsequential.

He keeps pulling down the time bar, heart beating in his throat - _ten more minutes, holy shit_ \- and he frantically glances up every time the bell rings, signifying a new customer. After a few minutes - or an eternity, Stiles doesn’t even know anymore - a lean guy with dark hair and light eyes walks in, and Stiles is convinced it’s Derek, but the guy doesn’t even look at him. Shit.

He wipes his palms on his jeans - he can’t finish the puzzle because his fingers keep slipping, how pathetic is that - and goes back to trying to complete it. The next time the bell rings, another dude with dark hair and light eyes enters the coffee shop, but Stiles slumps back in his seat when he takes one glance at him.

Don’t get him wrong, the guy is Hot™ - and yes, the capital H and the trademark are necessary - but there’s no way that’s Derek, who’s way too dorky and cute to look like that. This guy looks like he’s more into weightlifting than Iron Man. Plus, the dark eyebrows don’t really give off the inviting vibe that Derek’s voice has, so no. Not Derek.

He looks back at his phone - just two more minutes, shit, where _is_ he? There’s no way Derek would’ve bailed on him; he seemed so excited when Stiles proposed a meeting, voice getting all high-pitched. Stiles kind of had the urge to throw a blanket over him and smother him to death, because Derek’s so cute that Stiles sometimes doesn’t know what to do with himself.

He’s about to chew his fingernails more to death - if that’s even possible, Christ - when he sees someone move closer to him from the corner of his eyes. It’s the Eyebrows Guy - who’s frowning and looks really angry, god, someone _save him._

“Hey man, I don’t know if I did anything wrong or something, but please don’t be angry with me?”

“I don’t-” Eyebrows Guy says, said eyebrows flying up into his hairline. Stiles bites on his fingernail until he notices the red flush on the guy’s cheekbones, what the actual fuck. “Stiles?”

Wait. Wait okay, just give him a second, right. Dark hair: check. Green-ish, blue-ish eyes: check. Blushing: check. Knows his name: double check. Oh, holy mother of god.

“ _Derek_?”

Eyebrows Guy - Derek, apparently, _shit fuck oh my god_ \- scratches the back of his neck and looks down nervously, the tips of his ears red. It’s official, Stiles is dead. Deceased. “Uh, hi?”

“You-” he manages to choke out, looking Derek up and down. His face feels like it’s on _fire_. “I- what… I don’t-”

Derek smiles, his eyes lighting up as the skin around them crinkles and Stiles literally feels his heart stop for a moment. Derek has dimples. And _bunny teeth_. What in the name of all that is holy is he doing here with Stiles? Apart from the fact that they like the same things of course, but _how_?

“Nice to meet you,” Derek says, sitting down opposite of him. “I’m Derek Hale.”

“Oh my god, can I please hold your hand?”

That’s, well, direct, even for Stiles’ standards, but he cannot think anything other than ‘ _Oh my god, Derek is apparently a supermodel_ ’ and ‘ _Dear Jesus, I want to spend the rest of my life with him_ ’, and neither are really appropriate for a first physical meeting.

Derek blinks before he breaks out into another one of those smiles, the tips of his ears turning red again. He still rolls his eyes, though, before he says, “I suppose I’ll allow you that privilege, yes.”

That’s when it really clicks for him: the underwear model and Greek God sitting in front of him is the same dorky, dry-witted guy who he’s been talking to for months. Who has two cats, and who wears sweater vests sometimes and who also wears glasses. Stiles is so fucking done for.

He internally breaks out into the first chorus of Bohemian Rhapsody when Derek holds out his hand - his fingers are shorter than Stiles’, and his palm is a bit broader, but Stiles is going to worship this hand because it’s _Derek’s_ \- and he grips it in his own, pretending his fingers aren’t shaking.

Derek smiles again and squeezes his hand and suddenly _the rest of Stiles’ life_ doesn’t seem like it would be nearly anymore. Stiles smiles back and vows to treasure Derek for however long Derek will have him, eternity or not. He’s never going to let him go now.

**Author's Note:**

> Have some cheesy thing with more hand holding because there can never be too much hand holding!!! I love hand holding!!!
> 
> I hope you liked it! Please lemme know what you thought?
> 
> [Heyo I have a Tumblr! Come talk to me?](http://demisexualhale.tumblr.com)


End file.
